I’m Really Not Trying to Be Chased by the Heroine as the Villainous Playboy! – Chapter 677

Chapter 58: The Trial

Unlike the busy days of Alice and Roy, the candidates for the Saint from the Eastern Continent found themselves in an awkward position, receiving the cold shoulder.

No one holds a grudge forever.

When the White Harbor Church grovelingly kissed up to the East, it was out of necessity, but now that Alice was here, why bother with such effort?

In just a few days, they fell from being hot favorites to candidates for the Saint to a state of complete neglect, occasionally being compared unfavorably to Alice. Unable to handle this drop, Levi and the others decided to move out of the White Harbor Church and find another inn.

In the room, several candidates for the Saint lost their former sparkle, each more glum than the last.

That day, they couldn’t even hold a candle to Alice; their essence was completely overshadowed by the blazing white halo, turning them into mere props.

The darlings of the Holy Light, who usually considered themselves superior, faced a blow for the first time. Even Visalia felt a bit disheartened, let alone Orloya and the others.

Only Levi refused to accept this reality.

“Lord Simon! There must be some mistake! This is impossible, it shouldn’t be like this! That day’s essence must have been rigged—they surely did something behind the scenes!”

Levi yelled frantically at Simon.

But Simon merely gazed outside the window, speaking rather leisurely, “Unfortunately, it was all real.”

“I can assure you, the essence was not fabricated; Alice’s Holy Light bloodline indeed surpasses yours by quite a bit.”

Not just by a little bit?

This statement made the candidates tremble slightly, some clenched their fists in unwillingness, others sighed bitterly.

Even the miracle child, the “Child of Light,” Sang, hung his head, a deep turmoil reflected in his eyes, losing the warmth he once radiated.

“The Holy Light will protect us, the Holy Light will protect us, the Holy Light will protect us…”

Since the end of the preliminaries, Sang had been mumbling this repeatedly, lost in despair. His eyes, once capable of bringing peace with just a glance, now slightly lost focus, bloodshot and weary.

But despite that, Levi still refused to accept it.

He slammed his fist against the wall, his sword energy crackling chaotically.

“No, why? Why should a mere maid or a knight surpass us, who have been favored by the Holy Light since childhood?!”

“Sang, you don’t think so?!”

If anyone could make Levi submit, it would only be this miracle child who had grown up alongside him.

Sang’s mindset had always been better than his.

However, the response he received was no longer the gentle advice he was used to but rather a mechanical, numbing chant.

“The Holy Light will protect us…”

Simon sighed helplessly, turning to look at everyone in the room, patiently explaining, “Didn’t you see it?”

“That essence, which can touch the depths of the soul, is something none of you, nor even us archbishops, can replicate.”

“Speaking purely in terms of bloodline potential, Alice indeed stands above you. However, historically, the trials for the Saint assess overall ability: strength, intelligence, character… please don’t give up—there’s still a chance for you to compete for the Saint position.”

With soothing words, Simon subtly released a wave of Holy Light that calmed the agitation among the group.

Sang took a deep breath, closed his eyes, then reopened them, finally regaining some of his former composure.

“I understand now; as long as we trust in the Holy Light, we shall ultimately be protected and achieve final victory.”

Just believe it yourself.

Simon sighed deeply within.

Alice’s advantages are far more than just bloodline talent; that Roy isn’t to be underestimated either. This trial for the Saint was far from what he had imagined.

The candidates managed to perk up a bit.

Only Levi, even with the comfort of the Holy Light, remained furious: “Lord Simon, do you really believe in those ghostly things?”

“Oh?” Simon was intrigued by the unwavering resolve of this swordsman.

“That’s just something only ignorant commoners would believe—ridiculous illusions! Just based on that, how can you assure…”

“Enough.”

A chill swept through, sharp as a sword blade.

In a corner, the old swordsman, who had been meditating in silence, let out a soft sigh, which held more weight than even the Holy Light’s comfort.

In that moment, Levi felt as if a blade was at his neck, freezing him in place, extinguishing his fury.

“A swordsman should sharpen themselves, cut through obstacles, rather than refuse to believe in reality and deceive themselves.”

The gray-haired old man glanced at Levi with disinterest, then lowered his head again, “I’ll say no more; you should know better.”

Levi’s face flashed between green and purple, but in the face of a legendary hero, he couldn’t show disrespect. In a huff, he left.

The other candidates followed him out.

Once the room was left with just the two of them, the “Sword Saint,” Rayo, let out a slight grunt.

“If the power of the holy sword could be fully unleashed, it could definitely cut through that essence. Too bad he’s still too green.”

“Senior, you’re being a bit too harsh on the young ones,” Simon teased, “after all, he is your direct disciple.”

Rayo replied blankly, “You know well that’s just one side of the Pope’s words, and I have never acknowledged it.”

“Instead of worrying about Levi, you should be more concerned about the fated one. Force won’t work, and neither will bribery. What do you plan to do next?”

The Pope had issued orders to secure the destined Saint at all costs.

The most optimistic plan was to apply pressure through the other candidates, then have Simon offer a bright future.

For a lowly, bullied servant, it’s hard to refuse that.

But the current situation was quite grim.

In the worst-case scenario…

This time, Simon chose not the other archbishops but the “Sword Saint” for the worst-case preparation.

“Do you need me to step in?”

Simon lightly tapped the table, pretending to ponder, “… No need.”

“Why shed unnecessary blood among our kin?”

“Since the situation is still unclear, we should wait for a better opportunity.”

Before Alice exhibited that miracle, aside from her own power, it also relied on other factors.

How could Simon not notice Roy’s special bloodline?

Given his previous misjudgment of Alice’s situation, Simon didn’t want to act rashly until he gathered ample information.

Rayo glanced outside, watching Levi and the others leave, “But that young man might mess up your plans.”

Upon hearing this, Simon simply smiled and shook his head, “Quite the contrary.”

“Some slightly reckless actions are the best trial.”

That very night, disguised, Levi ventured to the outskirts of White Harbor to meet a cloaked assassin.

In the layered, twisted forest, a distorted, spotted figure darted past quickly. Levi could sense the presence but couldn’t discern the form.

From the darkness, a voice distorted beyond recognition—neither male nor female—spoke: “Give me a name; as long as they’re alive, even if they’re a god, I’ll show you I can kill them.”

Confirming the other party’s abilities were genuine, Levi couldn’t help but smile: “Don’t worry, it’s just a mere maid.”

“I’m listening.”

Levi coldly replied, “The candidate for the Saint from White Harbor—Alice.”

“With Mr. Chameleon’s skills, taking her life should be no problem.”